


Warm and Soft

by animeshen



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Drama, F/M, First Time, Fluff and Angst, PWP, Post-Canon, Self-Denial, Vaginal Fingering, death mention, lissa is 18
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 19:07:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21993496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/animeshen/pseuds/animeshen
Summary: She's accepted his proposal, but Lissa wants assurance Lon'Qu can love her for who she is now- not for who she isn't, and not for what might become of her.
Relationships: Liz | Lissa/Lon'qu
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	Warm and Soft

**Author's Note:**

> I found this three-fourths done fic deep in my hard drive that I had begun some five years ago, shrugged and decided to finish it anyhow, even though no one will read this except probably my sister, because I'm pretty sure this fandom is dead. But it's done so.... here it is.

She lit a fire in him like nothing he had ever known. Her power over him was absolute- he both feared and adored her. He wanted nothing to do with her, wanted to stay far away. He wanted to be by her side always, wanted to touch her skin, her hair. Her smile was infectious, and her tears broke his heart. It was a war within him, trying to decide how he felt about her. He he did not deserve her but that did not keep him from wanting her, and their near constant proximity only intensified his desire. He tried to frighten her off with a cold attitude, but it only made her more determined to get close to him, endeared her more to him. Lissa, while barely lifting a finger, had somehow managed to carve her initials into Lon’qu’s heart.

*

His distaste for the female gender was not born for fear of their feminine wiles. He didn’t think what women kept under their clothing would bite him, nor did he believe himself so weak that he would fall for a seductress’ trap. Lon’qu was a strong, rational man, in general. And despite what some said behind their hands when his back was turned, he did not prefer the company of men in any… particularly _ personal  _ capacity. Though he would not join men such as Gregor in any especially bawdy tales, he did acknowledge to himself privately that women were… pleasing to the eye. They looked… soft.

…Which was exactly the problem. Women, physically, were too soft. Too fragile. Too easily killed. Though he had known many women who would challenge him on this- Sully especially made a point to show that she was no less capable than any man- and though he agreed that by and large his female companions were just as apt as his male companions, Lon’qu still couldn’t shake the idea that women were considered “the fairer sex”.

Ke’ri had died. Love had bloomed between them, but when the bandits came, he had lived, and she had died, because women, to him, were just too easily killed. He had made it a point then not to befriend anymore women- he couldn’t handle the loss again. The heartache, the blame- he couldn’t handle them again.

Because he knew, his life would always be surrounded by death.

Avoiding women had been easy, for a while. In Ferox, he had been Basilio’s champion, and fought mainly strong men. Women were around, but they were outnumbered and easy to avoid.

But then he had been traded to Chrom’s army, and his real trial began.

Chrom was a good man, and a good ruler. His tactician was very clever and quick, and between the two of them, Lon’qu had high hopes for his army and their success. There were many other fine soldiers about them as well, like Frederick and Virion- and then, there were the women. Almost outnumbering the men, they were as strong and courageous as they were beautiful. Cordelia’s shining red hair, Sumia’s beautiful features, Cherche’s comforting disposition, Tharja’s stunning body, the way Olivia moved… Lissa’s… 

-It was enough to drive a man crazy. One time, surrounded by men, Lon’qu had mentioned that he found the girls distracting to their mission… but that had earned him no friends, as his companions had felt that such pretty faces boosted their morale, besides being a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield. The conversation had ended with the men toasting their drinks to the women of war, while Lon’qu slunk off alone, humiliated and angry. He had resolved to treat the women all the same on the battlefield, as he was unwilling to let his affliction take any more lives- but outside of that, he would have nothing to do with them.

That turned out to be easier said than done. For though he would try to avoid them, many of the girls went of their way to approach him, like he was a carnival curiosity. Miriel wanted to study him, like a science project. Sully took his aversion as a direct affront and challenged him constantly. Nowi insisted on play dates and then turned around and insisted, conflictingly, that she was an adult woman with adult needs. Tharja was positive he had been cursed. It was a maddening exercise. And then, to top it all off, Chrom- his wise and noble leader- had decided that the princess Lissa, his sister, was the target of a conspiracy against her life. Not willing to lose any more of his sisters but tasked with the full time job of managing an army and a kingdom, Chrom had elected Lon’qu to be her personal bodyguard.

Lissa. It had to be Lissa.

He almost could have felt it from the start. The way she smiled brightly at him. Her wide blue eyes, the curls in her pigtailed hair. She stuck out her hand and a chill went up his spine. The girl was mildly offended when he did not take her proffered hand, but undaunted nonetheless. She was determined to make friends. She was a sweet, good-natured girl, loved by many, and easy to befriend. She was resolved to have his friendship, too. In the end, she would have much more.

He had kept his tent near hers for many weeks, in order to be able to spring to action should something go amiss. The thin, canvas walls between them had been a blessing and a curse. The reprieve from her constant company was much appreciated… and also unnerved him to no end. He liked the moments of silence to collect his thoughts. He loathed long stretches where he did not know what sort of peril she could be in out of his sight. Lon’qu slowly, day by day, moved his tent closer and closer to hers. He took to standing vigil outside her door when she was inside. He knew who she took dinner with. He knew which days she bathed. He knew when she was reading spell books, and when she was reading romance novels. Of course, Lissa knew he was there. Sometimes, she would invite him in. He would always decline, saying he could guard her better from outside and to scream if she was dying. Lissa would shrug and, unless she was in the mood for company, go back to what she was doing.

Sometimes, he knew, she would tease him. “Lon’qu,” she would say in a sing-song voice, a devilish grin on her beautiful face, “would you help me tie up my corset?” “Lon’qu, would you fetch me a towel? I’m soaking wet and I’m getting chilly!” “Lon’qu, what do you think of this nightgown?” When she did this, he would always sputter, turn red and retreat far away to the sound of her giggling. He started to wonder if this was her way of requesting privacy, or if she was just picking on him. Either way, he would be stuck with the mental image of the young princess with her clothing half undone, or dripping wet and reaching to him for a towel, or in filmy nightwear. This visions would haunt him, causing ungentlemanly reactions in his body that he could only ignore for so long before he would be forced to throw himself into a cold river or lake for relief.

She was probably soft, and warm.

Lon'Qu dunked his head.

*

It turned out, there really were assassins.

They came for her at night, while the two of them were walking around the camp. They must have assumed that one lone bodyguard would be no match for them. They had been mistaken. Lon’qu had made short work of them- there were no survivors. He had not come out unscathed though, and the princess worried endlessly for him. She had tried to tend to his wounds, but her touch burned him- her fingers were soft, and felt soothing to his injured skin. He liked the feel of it. In his fear and regret, he flinched, brushing her away. “I’ll escort you back to your tent,” he had said gruffly. She was worried that he wouldn’t want to see her anymore, now that the assassination attempt had been foiled. That was the idea. He needed to be away from her. He needed to regroup. He needed to clear her from his thoughts. But the sad look in her eyes when explained that their time together was done- he couldn’t take it. Painfully, he conceded that they could, occasionally, still see each other. She had been overjoyed. He didn’t know how to feel about it.

*

Picking out the ring had been one of the most difficult decisions of his life. More difficult, he was surprised to realize, then his decision to propose. Once he realized how in love he was with Lissa, the next step seemed very simple to him.

It would be very simple. He would propose, and she would turn him down, because she was a princess, and he was a mercenary who couldn't even hold her hand.

Choosing a ring had been an exhausting, frustrating and somewhat humiliating all-day chore. In the market he’d run into Stahl, who was shopping for something for his brother, and the knight, sworn to secrecy, had very patiently and without judgment helped Lon’qu make a decision, or more accurately, helped him talk to the women in the shop since Lon’qu kept freezing up when addressed. Afterwards, the awkward man thanked him with an embarrassed nod, and Stahl grinned and wished him good luck.

*

It was the first night after his proposal. After she had readily agreed (to his restrained delight and legitimate surprise), they had spent the whole day together, though they hadn’t immediately told anyone. Lissa had suggested, and Lon’qu appreciated her for it, that they should spend a little time getting used to each other (she of course meant, he should spend time getting used to her) before they made it public. So they had walked about together, which was not an uncommon sight, and when no one was looking, he would make small attempts to touch her. First, he brushed the hem of her sleeve, then in a while, her hand. When he threaded his fingers through hers and clasped their hands together, it was a monumental, if short lived, victory.

Lon’qu was reflecting on the day in his cot when he heard someone approach. It only took a moment for him to recognize her footfalls.

“Lissa.” She hadn’t even cleared her throat yet before he called out to her. “What are you doing at this hour?”

“…May I come in?” She asked a little nervously from the other side of the canvas. It was well past dark, and she should have been asleep- but then, he supposed, so should he. He made an acknowledging sound, and she entered, wrapped in a blanket. He sat up to greet her, and the princess blushed at the sight of him- it occurred to him that she hadn't realized her bodygaurd slept without a shirt. He pretended he did not notice her leering at him in the darkness.

“You should be in bed,” he said curtly. “If someone saw you come here-“

“No one saw me,” she interrupted. “I just- I mean, I know we aren’t married yet- but I’d been thinking about it so much and I couldn’t sleep- But now that I know how you feel- and I feel the same way- and I just… wanted to be near you.” She was blushing and fidgeting, and soon his face was also aflame. He supposed he couldn’t especially blame her for being unable to sleep after the events of the day when he was in the exact same spot, but her decision to come find him at all hours of the night was surprising at least.

“…Lissa,” He began awkwardly, trying to force himself to stop blushing, “I… its… not appropriate… yet. If people knew-“

“I don’t care about ‘people’,” she began, “and I don’t think it’s inappropriate to want to sleep in the same room as your fiancé. You… you don’t have to touch me, or talk to me, or look at me… Lon’qu… I just want to be near you. I-I can sleep on the other side of the tent, on that rug, and I won’t bother you at all,” she added hastily. Lon’qu couldn’t help but to roll his eyes- in what universe would he let the woman he loves sleep on a rug on the other side of the room? He’d rather she just went back to her own tent… or shared the cot with him. The image that came to his mind at that particular thought embarrassed him. She was probably warm, and soft… she probably smelled nice… he wanted to scoop her up in his arms but-

-But what? She was going to be his bride. His wife. He had asked her and she had agreed, so what was the sense now of being shy around her? Of pushing her away? Of denying himself the comforts that she would offer him? He had been afraid to get close to women all his life after Ke’ri had died, for fear of finding love and losing it again. But love had found him anyhow- what was there left to do but protect it with all his might?

“I… suppose I should… get used to you.” His voice was strained, as if he had to force them out of his throat. He began to assess the size of the cot. Could two people safely sleep on it, or should he take the floor?...

Lissa grinned in excitement at her husband-to-be. She dropped the blanket from around her shoulders and bounced over to his bed. The moment she had sat down, however, Lon’qu pulled away in terror and quickly turned his face away, sweating and turning ever brighter shades of red.

“Lissa- y-you’re nightgown- I can see-” He stammered, trying to keep his eyes off her as his heart raced in his chest. Could that small, thin bit of cloth even be called a nightgown?! It barely brushed her thighs, thin and transparent, it was hardly a whisper of clothing- how was he meant to react to that?! It was at that moment he realized his own state of undress- a pair of sleeping pants, and nothing else. They hardly had an entire outfit on between them!

Lissa covered herself with her arms, abashed. “Oh- I-is it too short? See, I don’t like having anything around my legs when I sleep, cuz I get tangled in it- are you embarrassed? I’m sorry, I’ll get under the covers and you won’t have to look.” She quickly pulled his blankets up over herself and Lon‘qu needed a moment to take stock and try to control his breathing. There was a beautiful girl in his bed, where he slept, and she was hardly wearing anything at all, and she loved him- was this allowed? Was any of this allowed? Was this a dream, or a prank?

“Is… is this too much?” she asked, a little meekly. “I can go- I don’t want to panic you. I’m sorry Lon’qu, I can-” 

“Don’t,” he interrupted in a stern, sharp bark and she flinched a little, startled. He looked at her now, painfully, fighting a war within himself and she looked so helpless it could break his heart. “Don’t… go,” he finally finished. “I… want you here.”

Lissa knew going into this relationship that Lon’qu was going to be stingy with his shows of affection, so hearing those words from him filled her heart almost as much as his proposal earlier in the day had and she couldn’t help but smile. “Is there anything I can do?” She asked, hoping to ease his burden. 

“Just… lay facing that way,” he tried awkwardly, gesturing away from him. Lissa complied and laid down with her back to him. He in turn put his back to her and attempted to make himself comfortable under the covers.

…It was not a very big bed. He wasn’t sure there would have been room for them both to lay on their backs if they’d wanted to. As such, it was impossible not to feel her body against his back. He tried to squirm as close to the edge of the cot as possible but it seemed his princess preferred to sleep curled up, and as such her rear was pressing against him in an unignorable way. There was absolutely no way he was going to be able to sleep like this. He began to consider taking the floor.

For many long moments they laid that way in silence, each hoping sleep would eventually take them. It did not. Instead, they seemed to grow increasingly uncomfortable, which was hardly ideal when sleeping beside the person you were engaged to. Finally, just as Lon’qu was about to quit and relocate, Lissa’s voice broke through the silence.

“Lon’qu…” she started, and then stopped. He waited, listening, while Lissa found her words, trying to encourage herself to continue. It was easier to say when they weren’t facing each other, it seemed.

“I know it’s not…  _ me _ you’re scared of,” she began, hoping he wouldn’t interrupt her thought, hoping she didn’t lose her place. “Its loving someone… and then losing someone… we’re all scared of that. We’ve all…. Lost someone…” she paused, and he guessed she was thinking of her sister. Lon’qu did not attempt to interject, waiting for her to finish. She continued. “But you already love me… I mean, you gave me a ring and everything… so…” she sighed, trying to figure out how to phrase the words that were in her heart. Finally, frustrated, she sat up in bed, Lon’qu slowly rose beside her, saying nothing.

“I can’t promise I’m not going to die. I wish I could… sincerely… but I know this is a war. Anyone can die.” Even Emmeryn. “But I’m also not weak. I can heal… and I can fight… I can protect myself. And I just… I just don’t want our whole relationship to be you waiting for something bad to happen to me. And… and… I know you’ll never be really comfortable around other girls… and that’s fine… but I just hope that someday you can at least be comfortable… around me. I mean- no pressure- just- someday.”

Lissa stared down at her hands in her lap through the darkness, and he could see the despair and anxiety on her face, and it hurt him. She must have been thinking about this a lot- all day at least, possibly much longer, wondering how he could lower his defenses enough to truly love a woman, afraid that having a husband that was too afraid to touch her would eventually wear her down. He could hear all her fears in her voice.

A silence hung heavy between them as they sat side by side in the world’s smallest cot as her words rang through Lon’qu’s head. He understood what she was trying to say, though she had muddled her way through it. She was afraid that he would never be able to truly open up to her. She was afraid he would look at her and always see Ke’ri. The thought shook him. He wanted to be annoyed that she would think that, but then he supposed he had not done much to prove it to the contrary.

He didn't know what to say. What COULD he say? What could he do to assure her he wasn't waiting for her to die, but to spend the rest if his life proving it? Lissa was silent- she was waiting for him to say something. He couldn't. So he tried something else. Gently, he lifted her hand to her face, tilting her chin up to meet his eyes. Before he could think it through, before he could talk himself out of it, Lon'Qu placed a tender kiss to his fiancee's lips. She was warm, and soft.

They were both bright red. He thought it would take him weeks-months- YEARS to get that far. Lots more gentle touches, hand holding, maybe even eventually a peck on the cheek; but why should he need all those barriers now?

He was hers. He was as wrapped around her as the ring on her finger. And she needed to know how much she meant to him. "I'm... sorry," he said haltingly. "For making you feel this way."

"I love you, Lon'Qu," she whispered sincerely, and he could feel his heart expanding in his chest, the warmth and light that he did not deserve but he  _ had _ it and he was going to protect it with all his strength. He was about to reply with affirmation when she continued to speak. "Will you.... kiss me again?"

A terrifying request. So simple, but so meaningful. He wanted to do it  _ so badly. _ It scared him how badly. He took her face in his hands again. She was so warm and soft. He was trembling. He wanted this, and he was afraid of this. He pressed his lips to hers, and she pressed back. Warm and soft. He shuddered and pressed deeper into her, parting his lips and she met him with enthusiasm as her tongue darted across his bottom lip. Warm and soft. He wanted more. He was terrified. He felt like his body was vibrating as he moved his shaking hands down her face to her shoulders, turned their bodies to face each other, pulled her against his chest, he didn't know how to stop now, he could feel her heartbeat, feel her  _ breasts _ against his bare chest and he was _ terrified _ because he didn't want to stop and she was so warm and soft-

A small, needly moan escaped her throat and Lon'Qu shuddered and groaned at the sound of it, feeling a familiar, tightening sensation in his breeches as his body responded to her and he wrapped his arms around his, fingers finally twisting into her loose, sunshine hair,  _ warm and soft _ and he scraped his teeth across the flesh of her neck.

" _ Lissa _ ," he growled in an unfamiliar, feral way, and he felt her shiver beneath his fingers. "You should leave. I don't.... I don't know how to stop."

It was too late to go slow. He'd skipped 'slow'. He'd held back for so many years, so much restraint left him wound as tightly as a coil and he couldn't hold it back anymore. He loved her and he wanted her and he  _ needed  _ her. Everything he'd ever feared, everything he'd ever desired. His heart was hammering against his ribs as though fit to burst right through. He needed her love and her smiles and her hair and her skin and her flesh. He was terrified of himself. He hoped she would leave. He prayed she would stay.

Her hands came around his back, pressing delicately into his skin  _ warm and soft _ and she leaned into his ear, his voice breathy and sensual. "I don't want you to stop."

She couldn't promise she wouldn't die. To make such a promise would have been an awful lie. He appreciated her more for sparing him such false platitudes. But they were in a war, and so many had died already. She might die. He might die. Why should he hold back now? What was left to fear? If they lost each other, then they should at least be able to say that they loved each other as hard as they could.

Her permission opened a floodgate inside of him. He claimed her lips again, plunging his tongue into her mouth to lap at her lips and teeth and swallow the sounds that she made, her whines and moans, he wanted to taste every one of them because he was hers and  _ she _ was  _ his _ and there were no barriers now. He moved over her, pressing her into the small cot with his body and feeling the electricity of her hands on his back, her fingernails raking into his skin, her hips tilting upwards to meet his and he was so  _ hard _ now, it would have embarrassed him if she wasn't so obviously grinding against him for her own sense of relief, eyes heavy and dark with desire, lips parted and swollen, sunshine hair splayed out across his pillow like some forbidden fantasy he'd dared not to entertain.

"Lon,Qu," she moaned, "Don't stop."

His rough hands found the front of her nightgown and ripped it like paper. She gasped, and he knew somewhere in the back of hisn mind he would regret that action later but for now he could only focus on her newly bared breasts, the pert pink tips and soft smooth skin, and his mouth fell upon one, laving at her nipple with his tongue and pulling it with his teeth and she was panting and moaning beneath him, her fingers gripping his dark hair as he moved to her other breast, arms on either side of her and knees pressed into the thin mattress between her own, she was grinding her hips against his as she found his hard cock beneath his pants and he groaned hoarsely into her breast at the feel of her.

Bracing himself on one arm by her head, he moved his hand down between them, between her thighs, and plunged a finger inside of her,  _ warm and soft, _ she gasped and wriggled beneath him and he knew he was probably going too fast but ne needed everything and he needed it now, he would spend the rest of their marriage making it up to her if she liked but he couldn't hold himself anymore as he pumped his finger in and out of her, watching the way her breasts bounced from her short, raspy breaths with hungry eyes.

"Don't stop!" She repeated and he added a second finger, to her squirming delight.

He didn't know much so he watched her face to gauge her reactions, memorizing how beautifully she moaned, the way her fingers felt digging into his arm, the way her eyes flew open when he found just the right spot and she bucked against his hand in an attempt to replicate the sensation, and his cock was so  _ hard, _ precum weeping through the front of his pants until he finally couldn't take it anymore and pulled away from her.

Lissa blinked and pouted at the loss of contact as he stood, until his breeches fell around his ankles and he stepped out of them, rejoining her on the bed and tearing the rest of her nightclothes away. He kissed her again and looked into her eyes. 

"If you don't want this, tell me now," he said with a growl in his voice, desperate and needy for the affection he'd been denying himself all these years, but with enough presence of mind to ensure the woman he loves was with him for this final, monumental step.

Lissa smiled coyly at him. "You'll still marry me after, right?" She giggled. Lon'Qu snorted out a laugh.

"Whether you stay or not, I'll always be by your side," he answered. "I love you."

"I love you too. And I trust you. I'm your bride, Lon'Qu. I'm yours."

"Mine," he breathed, his cock twitching, body tight and desperate. 

"Yours," She repeated again, wrapping her arms around his neck, eyes darkening with lust. Her pressed another burning hot kiss to her lips and he reached between them to grip the base of his shaft and slid into her opening. Lissa tightened and gasped into his mouth and he shuddered, pushing into her at a maddeningly slow pace and she was so WET, so warm, so soft, he was afraid he would burst at the feel of her clenching and pulsing around his stiff cock but she took it all until he was entirely inside her, and they were both shaking.

"Are you.... okay?" He managed to ask through breathy pants, and she nodded, eyes squeezed shut, but her body betrayed her as she was tense from her teeth to her toes, so he waited, pressing kisses into her jaw and her neck, until finally she relaxed around him, and sighed. 

"Okay," she finally breathed, "I'm okay. I'm sorry."

"Don't," he said simply, and kissed the apology from her lips. With that her began to move, pulling his cock out slowly and then pushing it back in, pumping at a steady pace and he'd never felt anything so incredible, this woman, his wife, was incredible. He tilted his hips, trying to find that spot inside her he'd found before with his fingers and knew he'd succeeded when she arched off the bed with a keening moan, and he stayed put, shivering and sweating, fingers gripping one of her hips as he moved rapidly inside of her, needing and wanting and racing like she was the only thing that could save his life, his cock achingly hard as he slammed into her over and over again and increasingly erratic intervals, tight and wet and warm and soft and she was moving, an arm around his shoulders, and other curled into the pillow behind her as she chased her own pleasure and he was trying, he was _ trying _ to wait for her, he'd waited so long for her, waited his whole life for her, but Gods he was at his boiling point, Lissa was panting and roiling and moaning-

"L-Lon-!"

She couldn't quite finish as she shattered to pieces around him and he finally broke, groaning and shivering as he came hard inside of her, painting her insides with his cum as she tightened around him, squeezing him dry until finally they both came back down, sinking into the cot like their bones had turned to liquid, red-faced, sweaty, panting, and satiated. They faced each other on their sides as their bodies slowly cooled in the chilly night air.

She looked absolutely angelic to him. He'd never loved anything more in his life. Lon'Qu reached forward to softly brush some hair out of her blue eyes- soft, and warm.

"I'm... sorry," he blushed. "I... shouldn't have done that... inside of you."

Lissa snorted a laugh. "We'll make that a tomorrow problem," she smiled. "It felt.... really good. I liked it."

"I did, too."

"Hmmm...." She hummed happily as she snuggled into him. "I hope after that you can hold me. It would be a shame if you reverted back right away."

He blushed awkwardly, wrapping an arm protectively around her waist, pulling her into his chest. "You're mine," he whispered into her hair. "I don't have to be afraid of you."

"You don't," she whispered back sleepily. "I'm yours. And you're mine."

"I'm yours."

She lit a fire in him like nothing he had ever known. And that fire would never go out.


End file.
